The online home of Paul McNamara: Nurse. Educator. Digital Citizen.

Tag Archives: communication

Nurses and other health professionals are expected to attend to hand hygiene about eleventy seven times a day. The WHO and HHA recommend 5 moments for hand hygiene: before touching a patient, before clean/aseptic procedures, after body fluid exposure/risk, after touching a patient, and after touching patient surroundings. 57.4% of Australia’s nurses/midwives are hospital/ward-based [source], they’re doing A LOT of hand hygiene.

On top of that, while they’re going about their business and busyness, ward-based nurses are interrupted10 times an hour [source]. Yep, every 6 minutes there’s something or somebody distracting us from our tasks and thoughts. Dangerously disorderly much? Hopefully that doesn’t happen to neurosurgeons, commercial airline pilots, tattoo artists or Batman.
Especially Batman.

Pro-Tip: most of us can not do this at work. Only respond to distractions with face-slapping if you are Batman.

So, here’s the idea: if you’re going to do hand hygiene dozens of times a day anyway, don’t just do it for your patients: do it for yourself too. We’re not cold callous reptilian clinicians, we’re educated warm-blooded mammals who do emotional labour. We need to nurture ourselves if we are to safely continue to nurture others.

Feel the product texture and temperature. The rub is cooler than the air. The rub is cooler than my fingers. It feels nice.

Start with cleaning. The first half of my hand hygiene routine is about rubbing stuff off. Let the stuff I want to get rid of float away.

Move on to restoration, healing. The second half of my hand hygiene routine is about rubbing in resilience and health. Let the stuff that sustains me seep into my skin.

Check in on the breathing. The slower and deeper the better. If the breathing or the brain are running too fast, slow down and repeat steps 5 and 6.

There’s no rush. Slowly scan the surroundings. With any luck someone from infection control is watching.

Smile.

Breathing slowly, its time let the air rinse off the residue.

One more slow breath. Its time to get back to work.

Mindful Minute (The 60-Second Handwash Version)

Step towards the sink with intent. This is my mindful minute. I’m taking a brief break.

Let the water flow.

Feel the water flowing over both hands. The water’s warmer than the air. The water’s warmer than my fingers. It feels nice.

Add soap. It’s slippery. Frictionless fingers feel fine.

Start with cleaning. The first half of your hand hygiene routine is about washing stuff away. Let the stuff you need to get rid of flow down the drain. Let it flow away.

Move on to restoration, healing. The second half of my hand hygiene routine is about rubbing in resilience and health. Let the stuff that sustains me seep into my skin.

Check in on the breathing. The slower and deeper the better. If the breathing or the brain are running too fast, slow down and repeat steps 5 and 6.

There’s no rush. Slowly scan the surroundings. With any luck someone from infection control is watching.

Smile.

Breathing slowly, its time rinse both hands.

Breathing slowly, its time to thoroughly dry both hands together.

Throw the towel in the bin.

One more slow breath. Its time to get back to work.

Clean hands save lives. Clear heads save lives too!

Acknowledgements & Context

This is not my original idea. I first stumbled across the idea of combining hand hygiene with head hygiene via Ian Miller‘s November 2013 blog post “mindfulness during handwashing”: http://thenursepath.com/2013/11/18/mindfulnurse-day-8/. I’ve been using the idea myself and suggesting it to colleagues and students ever since. When I left the clinical environment for a few months, I found myself really missing intentionally punctuating my day with mindful moments. Since returning to clinical practice I’ve come to appreciate the strategy even more than I did when I first started using it 3 years ago.

So why am I blogging about it too? Why now? Well, on Monday I attended the Australasian College for Infection Prevention and Control 2016 conference to chat about Twitter [link to that presentation here. Also, check-out the #ACIPC16 hashtag here and here]. Luckily I was there for the opening plenary sessions, and was pleasantly surprised at the emotional/psychological literacy that was being displayed and advocated for. The opening presentations by Peter Collignon, Mary Dixon Woods and Didier Pittet all went to some lengths to emphasise the importance of emotional intelligence, constructive communication and building relationships. It was really impressive stuff; giving the hand hygiene and mindful moments idea a remix is my way to give recognition/thanks to the #ACIPC16 conference delegates and organisers.

Below is a metaphor I heard in 1994 via an impressive man called Greg Holland. Greg is retired now, but when I met him he was a CNC with a public community mental health service. Even after all the years that have followed, Greg remains one of the most skilled communicators and mental health nurses I’ve ever worked with.

Greg was talking with a couple of young fellas who had been diagnosed with schizophrenia. Greg was explaining the importance of trying to avoid relapses of psychosis. The key messages for these young blokes was to keep taking the prescribed medications, and stay away from things that make psychosis more likely: things like cannabis, amphetamines or heaps of alcohol. That’s when Greg used this metaphor (his verbal version was shorter than my written version, but the general story is the same):

If you accidentally broke your leg skateboarding or playing football, you’d have to have your leg in plaster for about 6 weeks. You would have to be really careful with it during that time, and it would probably get really uncomfortable and itchy most days. Then, if there were no complications, after 6 weeks you’d be able to get the plaster cast off, and start building up your strength in that broken leg. A physio might recommend some exercises, but you probably wouldn’t get back to playing football or skateboarding for a few months. Rehabilitation takes a bit of time and effort, but as a young fit man you’ll make a full recovery. No worries.

If you broke the same leg again, it might be more of a big deal. You might need surgery, and they might need to strengthen the bone with steel plates or rods and screws. Sometimes people need to have external fixation: metal devices that are screwed into the bones, but sit outside the body, above the skin to stabilise the fractures. It will be messier, more painful, take longer to get out of hospital, and your leg muscles will get pretty weak. You’ll probably make a full recovery still, but it will just take more time and effort.

If you break your leg a third time, the orthopaedic nurses and doctors are going to think you’re either really unlucky or stupidly reckless. They’ll suggest that you stop skateboarding and playing football altogether. Your leg will get operated on, and the fractures will get stabilised, but the recovery will be really slow. You could end-up with a bit of a limp.

If you keep on breaking the same leg over and over again, say five, six, seven times, you will definitely end up with a limp. Might need a walking stick or something.

If you break the same leg often enough and bad enough you’ll probably end up lame: permanently disabled and unable to walk. You’ll wish you’d listened to the orthopaedic nurses and doctors, and had never gone back to skateboarding or playing football.

It’s kind of the same with psychosis.

If you lose touch with reality once or twice you’ll probably make a full recovery.

But if you keep on having psychotic episodes your brain might develop a bit of a “limp” – it will still work, but not as good as it used to work.

If you have lots of psychotic episodes you might end up disabled and unable enjoy life to the fullest. You’ll wish you’d never gone back to smoking gunja or getting pissed.

That’s why I’m working with you to prevent or cut down on psychotic relapses. Does that make sense to you?

I really like the broken leg/psychosis metaphor. I use a shortened version of the above script a fair bit at work, and people usually respond well to it. I’m very grateful to Greg Holland for introducing the analogy to me. It’s a good metaphor that I hope that others will find useful to use/adapt in their clinical practice too.

This post is a companian piece to my oral presentation at the Australian College of Mental Health Nurses 42nd International Mental Health Nursing Conference, 25 – 27 October 2016, Adelaide Convention Centre (the conference hashtag is #ACMHN2016). The function of the online version is to be a collection point to list references.

The Prezi is intended as an oral presentation, so I do not intend to include a full description of the content here.

Regular visitors to meta4RN.com will recognise some familiar themes. Let’s not call it self-plagarism (such an ugly term), I would rather think of it as a new, funky remix of a favourite old song. Due to this remixing of old content I’ve included previous meta4RN.com blog posts on the reference list (which, in turn, makes the reference list look stupidly self-referential).

Have you ever heard someone say something like, “Twitter doesn’t interest me – I don’t care what Justin Bieber had for breakfast”? Those people speak that way because they don’t understand the difference between personal, official and professional use of Twitter or social media more generally. Data will be presented about nurses using Twitter in a constructive, professional way, with the aim of allaying the fears of those in the pre-contemplation phase, and encouraging those in the contemplation and action phases. In recognition of nursing being a predominantly female profession, a feminist argument will be introduced that aligns the use of social media with empowerment. It will be argued that Twitter can enable and ennoble mental health nurses to engage with people beyond the “walled gardens” of our work silos, our profession, and our conference. Participants will be encouraged to have their mobile phone/tablet/laptop turned on and in use during the presentation, in the hope that we will have a shared conversation on the subject. Why on earth would a mental health nurse bother with Twitter? Answers and challenges will be available to those who attend this presentation and/or follow the conference hashtag #ACMHN2016.

New South Wales Nurses and Midwives Association [nswnma]. (2014, July 30). Women now have unmediated access to public conversation via social media for 1st time in history @JaneCaro #NSWNMAconf14 #destroythejoint [Tweet]. Retrieved from https://twitter.com/nswnma/status/494313737575096321

It is to explain why I have been so uncharacteristically vague, and often distracted, for the last 40-odd weeks.

During that time many dozens of people (most of them uni students, but also friends, family and colleagues) have asked this question: “Are you still teaching at the uni?” My wishy-washy responses have been along these lines:
“Hopefully!”
“I’m not sure.”
or the hilariously inaccurate “Ask me again in a couple of weeks.”

Let me explain/elaborate by using a timeline:

1995: Started working for the health department full-time [see LinkedIn]

1996: Started working for the uni temporarily/part-time – an arrangement that continues sporadically over the years that follow [see LinkedIn]

May 2015: I’m working at the uni. Casual chat between senior uni colleague and I. Outcome = let’s think about the possibility of a shared position between the uni and the health department. There would be some benefits to both organisations. It’d be a pretty cool gig, I reckon.

June 2015: Senior uni colleague says “let’s do it!”. A meeting is held between senior uni colleague and a senior health department colleague. Verbal agreement established. The uni sends a contract to the health department. The first draft of the role description is drawn up by the uni and sent to the health department. The contract and position description cite an October 2015 start date.

July 2015: I’m back at the health department. I make sure that people who need to know about the new position coming know, and offer to help progress things along if I can. Funding’s an issue, of course, but there should be a way…

August 2015: I make occasional enquiries. Bureaucracies need processes and time. Be patient.

September 2015: More enquiries. It’s all about the paper-trail, funding, signatures. Be patient.

October 2015: My enquiries must be getting a bit too shrill. Emails are not answered. Phone calls are not returned. The intended start-date for the position passes.

November 2015: I’m getting anxious about the delayed start not leaving enough time for 2016 subject preparation. I start pulling on the very few levers that are available to me: someone who knows someone who knows someone will look into it. I rescheduled my December flights: if I happen to get this job I won’t have time to go to Japan in December. The teaching starts in January, and there needs to be subject preparation.

December 2015: The position is advertised. Yay!
My request for consideration of transfer at level so as to expedite the position starting in a timely manner is declined. Bugger.
I send in my application and hope for the best.

8th January 2016: Interviewed for the position. I was phoned after the interview and offered a 3 month secondment into the position. That’s weird. It’s funded for 5 years. I ask to think about it over the weekend.

8th-10th January 2016: Consult with my wife and trusted friends. Consensus is that if I’m good enough to do the job for 3 months, it’s weird that I’m not good enough to do the job for the term of the contract. I find myself thinking of the refrain from Bob Dylan’s Ballad of a Thin Man:Because something is happening here But you don’t know what it is Do you, Mister Jones?

11th January 2016: “Thank you very much for offering me a 3 month position. However, I applied for a 5 year position. I can only commit to the position if the organisation commits to me.” Nice try Paul. “We’ll let you know when we schedule another interview.”

18th January 2016: The uni teaching period starts. The subject is underway without the position being filled.

2nd February 2016: Interviewed for the position again.

2nd February – 31st March 2016: I hear nothing at all officially. Other people do. It makes its way along the health department grapevine that someone else has been successful. One of those whispers reaches me via a convoluted track. I’m disappointed, of course, but not surprised. Silence is the polar opposite of someone enthusiastically saying, “Congrats! We reckon you’ll be great! When can you start?”

1st April 2016 (no, not joking): An email from noreply@smartjobs.qld.gov.au that says “I wish to advise that on this occasion you have not been successful in obtaining the position.”

So that’s it.

I can drop the vague, unknowing responses to enquiries now. It’s a relief to know. It’s a relief to be able to be open and transparent again. I didn’t get the job that I was hoping for. Yes, of course I am disappointed. However, I am totally accepting of the obvious fact that there was another candidate for the position who is better credentialed, better prepared and/or more meritorious for the role.

Ricky Ponting wouldn’t feel bad if somebody said Don Bradman was a better cricketer than him. Same-same, but different. Not that I’m the Ricky Ponting of mental health nurse education. More like Boof Lehmann, I reckon.🙂

I am disappointed by how long the whole recruiting process took. The uni sent the contract and position description to the health department in June 2015. It’s taken the health department until April 2016 to fill the position. That’s longer than a human pregnancy.

Despite being there for the courtship, conception and gestation, I now know it’s not my baby.

The other lesson I’ve taken from this is to cautiously self-monitor my behaviour at work (I’m a mental health nurse in a general hospital ). In clinical supervision we recognise that there are parallel processes: how a nurse treats a patient can be influenced by how the organisation treats the nurse. It is prudent that I be especially intentional and vigilant to treat my patients in a timely manner, and with the kindness and respect they deserve.

The last 40-odd weeks have been odd. Sorry about all my distractibility and wishy-washy responses to questions during that time. I hope this timeline/blog post explains it all.

This post is the companian peice to a Prezi of the same name, and serves mostly as a collection point for references and thanks.

The Prezi is intended as an oral presentation, so I do not intend to include a full description of the content here. After watching the Prezi/hearing the presentation regular visitors to meta4RN.com will recognise some familiar themes. Let’s not call it self-plagarism (such an ugly term), I would rather think of it as a new, funky remix of a favourite old song. Due to this remixing of old content I’ve included previous meta4RN.com blog posts on the reference list.

I am more than just a bit embarrassed at how self-referential the Prezi/my presentation is. Not only does this make me look like a total narcissist, it also calls the credibility of the presentation into question. I’ll need to cop those criticisms on the chin until more Australian mental health nurses provide examples of professional use of social media. When that happens, I intend to replace some of the meta4RN content of the Prezi with that of other Australian mental health nurses.

Thanks

Thanks to all those who contributed to the Prezi/presentation either directly or indirectly. There are too many to name at the moment [I have a deadline looming], but you’ll see glimpses of their names and faces on Twitter, Blogs and Facebook as you look through the Prezi. These are some of the people that make using social media such a pleasure. When I have time, I intend to come back and list all the contributors below:

New South Wales Nurses and Midwives Association [nswnma]. (2014, July 30). Women now have unmediated access to public conversation via social media for 1st time in history @JaneCaro #NSWNMAconf14 #destroythejoint [Tweet]. Retrieved from https://twitter.com/nswnma/status/494313737575096321

Many nurses and midwives are so adept at swearing that they can make truckies blush. Sailors and sportsmen gather at their feet to learn the fine art of uttering profanities.

There is, however, a small rightious subset of health professionals who are absolutely determined to take offence every time a patient gets a bit sweary. These people seem to have no tolerance for the use of vulgar, foul language to express and relieve stress or pain.

There is emotional release to be had when uttering indecent or filthy words. The phenomenon of emotional release through swearing even has a name: “lalochezia” – a word formed from the Greek lalia (speech) and chezo (to relieve oneself). Sources 1 + 2.

Words only have the power that we ascribe to them. As a judge sitting on cases regarding obscene language charges said, the use of swear words in Australia is very common in music, poetry, drama and literature, by ordinary people in the street, and by those in the corridors of power. The notion that they cause offence is an individual’s decision to react, not because of the rarity or harshness of the words themselves. Source 3.

Anyway, if we are fair dinkum about being patient-focused then swearing can be very useful. Swear words are great adjectives – think of them as something akin to the pain scale. Instead of using the ” 0 = no pain and 10 = worst pain imaginable” routine, some of our patients will use their own qualitative and quantitative pain scale. It might include descriptors like “no worries”, “a bit of an ache”, “painful”, “bloody painful”, “really bloody painful”, “bastard of an ache”, “as painful as fuck”, etc.

Maybe its those dopey “zero tolerance” signs (and the dopey attitudes they engender) that make some clinicians react to swear words as if they are weapons. As I have argued previously (see meta4RN.com/zero), we should have zero tolerance for zero tolerance and not spend so much time and effort trying to shut-down people from expressing their distress. Swearing not only communicates emotions but, as per the definition of “lalochezia”, acts as a pressure valve for those emotions. In clinical practice we should not be too quick to try turn off that pressure valve – it may prevent an explosion.